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THE DECATURIAN
Volume 8
DEOATUR, ILLINOIS, JANUARY, 1911
Number 5
More Than Coronets
An Inter-Society Short Story by Mamie L. Carrico.
"Ain't she come yet?"
Ed Gollins stamped the snow off his felt boots, and perched his lumbering body, with the laborious- ness of middle-aged joints, upon the old stool in one corner of the smelly, little room.
"She! Who?" the doctor clumsily removed his spectacles, his keen eyes growing even more kindly as they rested on his visitor.
Ed's honest, vacant face spread in a shy grin.
"You know! her—the one you wrote to down at Greasy Point for me."
"Oh! Mrs. Skelton, but she wasn't to come here to meet you, was she?"
"Sure, she's comin' here, this mornin'."
Before the doctor could express his surprise, the door was pushed open and a woman stepped in. She was bundled in numerous coats and shawls. Her felt hat, its one rose almost covered by snowflakes, was tilted forward, so that it hid the dirty pink frill of the hood which covered her head snugly under the hat. A veil, frosty white where her breath had frozen in the mesh, revaled only her eyes and the tip of her shiny nose. It was tied in the back in a big knot. A ragged overcoat enveloped her bulky per¬ son; blue drilling mittens covered her nands.
"Winter, ain't it?" she addressed the doctor in a hoarse voice as she advanced.
"It certainly is that," the doctor assented heart¬ ily. Meanwhile, those sharp eyes had discovered the diffident figure in the corner.
"Mrs. Skelton, allow me to present Mr. Gollins," said the doctor, formally, following her glance. Mr. Gollins thumped down off the stool. The toe of his boot caught in one of its legs and it fell with a clat¬ ter. His rough, brown face turned dark red, and drops of perspiration stood on it as he picked up the stool. Mrs. Skelton gave a quick nod that threw her hat over one ear.
After she had taken off her wraps the doctor
offered her his chair. She sat bolt upright in it, her black mitted hands crossed in her taffeta silk lap and her wool waist somewhat rumpled. The doctor put on his overcoat and cap and picked up his case.
"Just make yourselves at home," he urged, as he went out. He had gone but a few steps when Ed came lumbering after him.
"Doc," he whispered, huskily, "I'd orto got somethin' to chaw on."
"Run along, you can get it now," the doctor comforted, "she won't mind."
Ed limped swiftly down the white brick wall to the restaurant. He came out presently, beaming with honest endeavor, and holding three penny cakes of "Kis-me" chewing gum in one palm. In his pocket he had a paper bag of peppermint sticks. But the chief trophy was a tiny bottle of Hewitt's "Dime ologne." These he bore proudly back to the office.
As the doctor was returning about one o'clock, he beheld his simple friend driving homewards.
When Ed saw him he cracked the lines gleefully over the bony backs of his mules. He snatched off his hat which was hardly big enough to cover his fist and dangled it aloft joyously.
Mrs. Skelton was bundling up again when the doctor entered. Her sour mouth had relaxed slightly.
"Well, we've plum' decided to hitch up," she an¬ nounced. "He favors me, and I'll tell ye, doctor, I could love Ed. He's so. purty and he's got perlite manners. I do like that about a man."
"Did he tell you about his old mother and the silly girl, Cordy?" the doctor asked, anxiously.
"Sure you toi' me that in the fust letter. I've done promised to marry him, soon's my wood runs out that you Odd Fellers chopped for me."
"I'm mighty glad to hear it," the doctor exclaim¬ ed, conscious pride of his share in the match sunk in every wrinkle of his delighted face. "Ed will make you a good man."

All material contained in this publication is the property of the Decaturian of Millikin University. Requests for permission to reprint material under copyright should be directed to the Millikin University Archives at: refdesk@millikin.edu. Educational use with attribution does not require permission.

All material contained in this publication is the property of the Decaturian of Millikin University. Requests for permission to reprint material under copyright should be directed to the Millikin University Archives at: refdesk@millikin.edu. Educational use with attribution does not require permission.

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r,jj.«4i.;j"',-i.--'.|'— 'i
THE DECATURIAN
Volume 8
DEOATUR, ILLINOIS, JANUARY, 1911
Number 5
More Than Coronets
An Inter-Society Short Story by Mamie L. Carrico.
"Ain't she come yet?"
Ed Gollins stamped the snow off his felt boots, and perched his lumbering body, with the laborious- ness of middle-aged joints, upon the old stool in one corner of the smelly, little room.
"She! Who?" the doctor clumsily removed his spectacles, his keen eyes growing even more kindly as they rested on his visitor.
Ed's honest, vacant face spread in a shy grin.
"You know! her—the one you wrote to down at Greasy Point for me."
"Oh! Mrs. Skelton, but she wasn't to come here to meet you, was she?"
"Sure, she's comin' here, this mornin'."
Before the doctor could express his surprise, the door was pushed open and a woman stepped in. She was bundled in numerous coats and shawls. Her felt hat, its one rose almost covered by snowflakes, was tilted forward, so that it hid the dirty pink frill of the hood which covered her head snugly under the hat. A veil, frosty white where her breath had frozen in the mesh, revaled only her eyes and the tip of her shiny nose. It was tied in the back in a big knot. A ragged overcoat enveloped her bulky per¬ son; blue drilling mittens covered her nands.
"Winter, ain't it?" she addressed the doctor in a hoarse voice as she advanced.
"It certainly is that," the doctor assented heart¬ ily. Meanwhile, those sharp eyes had discovered the diffident figure in the corner.
"Mrs. Skelton, allow me to present Mr. Gollins," said the doctor, formally, following her glance. Mr. Gollins thumped down off the stool. The toe of his boot caught in one of its legs and it fell with a clat¬ ter. His rough, brown face turned dark red, and drops of perspiration stood on it as he picked up the stool. Mrs. Skelton gave a quick nod that threw her hat over one ear.
After she had taken off her wraps the doctor
offered her his chair. She sat bolt upright in it, her black mitted hands crossed in her taffeta silk lap and her wool waist somewhat rumpled. The doctor put on his overcoat and cap and picked up his case.
"Just make yourselves at home," he urged, as he went out. He had gone but a few steps when Ed came lumbering after him.
"Doc," he whispered, huskily, "I'd orto got somethin' to chaw on."
"Run along, you can get it now," the doctor comforted, "she won't mind."
Ed limped swiftly down the white brick wall to the restaurant. He came out presently, beaming with honest endeavor, and holding three penny cakes of "Kis-me" chewing gum in one palm. In his pocket he had a paper bag of peppermint sticks. But the chief trophy was a tiny bottle of Hewitt's "Dime ologne." These he bore proudly back to the office.
As the doctor was returning about one o'clock, he beheld his simple friend driving homewards.
When Ed saw him he cracked the lines gleefully over the bony backs of his mules. He snatched off his hat which was hardly big enough to cover his fist and dangled it aloft joyously.
Mrs. Skelton was bundling up again when the doctor entered. Her sour mouth had relaxed slightly.
"Well, we've plum' decided to hitch up," she an¬ nounced. "He favors me, and I'll tell ye, doctor, I could love Ed. He's so. purty and he's got perlite manners. I do like that about a man."
"Did he tell you about his old mother and the silly girl, Cordy?" the doctor asked, anxiously.
"Sure you toi' me that in the fust letter. I've done promised to marry him, soon's my wood runs out that you Odd Fellers chopped for me."
"I'm mighty glad to hear it," the doctor exclaim¬ ed, conscious pride of his share in the match sunk in every wrinkle of his delighted face. "Ed will make you a good man."